Left behind

by | Oct 19, 2006 | Poetry | 0 comments

You packed your bergen, I watched with woe
I dreaded the times you had to go
Nineteen weeks, in fifty two
Thirty-three, spent without you
Each time gets harder, each goodbye worse
Being an army wife, can be a curse
I’m proud of you don’t get me wrong
It’s just that, you’re away so long
It makes it hard, being over here
With not a trace, of family near
You never ring, and barely write
You’re far too busy you have to fight
A war, that someone else declared
You’re family’s here, and we are scared
But not as scared, as you must be
Face to face, with the enemy
Whose enemies? Not yours or mine
But of some suited, jumped up swine
Who told you, “go and do your job,
Pick up your weapon, face the mob
Forget you have a family
And do my work, go fight for me”
We’ll sit here anxiously, waiting for you
And pray to god, you’ll make it through


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